


Hook, Line, and Sinker

by sureandcertain



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Badass female character, Blind V (Mystic Messenger), Eventual Fluff, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Game Spoilers, Lawyers, Smut, and therefore so is v, but mainly jumin's and 707's as canon combined, i don't exactly know what to tag this right now, jumin han cannot handle other people being smart, jumin han is very protective over his company, lets just say jumin han is a couple of years younger than canon, sad 707, so he's like 25, tried to incorporate all endings/routes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-09
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-25 19:36:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12042813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sureandcertain/pseuds/sureandcertain
Summary: Jumin's soulmate is his company. He has no time for women, especially not those who want to use his company as a leg-up for their own gain. That being said, why is this one driving him in ways he's never been familiar with?And why can't he keep her off his mind?(AU where Jumin Han isn't a man-robot, and doesn't think about holding women hostage. SPOILERS for 707's & Jumin's routes)





	1. Find Me

 

**CHIEF LEGAL OFFICER – C &R International**

C&R International is an ever-expanding company, and we are currently looking to broaden our team of chief roles within the firm. While we appreciate our legal team, we feel that a higher role to lead the team would be vastly beneficial. This position also offers a seat in our Board of Members, in which you will be eligible to help the company decide on all major business decisions alongside those in the senior most positions at the company.

**REQUIREMENTS:**

  * Must already be part of the acting C&R International legal team
  * Must have worked at the company for 1+ years
  * Must be willing to take on responsibilities in all areas and departments of the business



**PERKS:**

  * Corner office on executive floor
  * Seat in Board of Members
  * Executive pay
  * Highest available promotion bonus
  * Extended vacation time



**HOW TO APPLY:**

Anyone who should wish to apply for such position should put forward their application directly on the Executive Director’s desk by 28th September. A select group of applicants will then be put forward for deliberation with the Board of Members on the 29th September. All applicants put forward in this selection must prepare a 5-minute pitch to deliver to the Board outlining why they are the perfect candidate for the role. Only one applicant will be selected. This will be decided in a vote by the Board after all pitches have been delivered.

The Chief Legal Officer will report directly to the Executive Director as of 1st October.

 


	2. No One Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay??????? this was originally meant to be an insert-self type thing but i kinda ended up giving "MC" a name and then ran with it but i kinda made it a name that wasn't too extreme so you can just,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, imagine it's you if you want okay thank u

Jumin Han was what most would call peculiar. For instance, there was an exact spot on his neatly polished executive desk that he wanted his files placed. He could work for 18 hours a day while surviving on only 3 hours sleep. He’d never had a relationship that lasted any longer than two months. The last time he had told someone he loved them was aged five, and the words were shared with his mother. To him, that was normal.

At exactly 7:10am – after knocking on the door twice – his bespectacled assistant, Jaehee, entered his office, carrying the usual abundance of files. There was no need for him to ask anymore; she deposited them onto their usual spot, straightening them out before she stood upright.

“These are the applications, Assistant Kang?” Jumin’s baritone voice was already crisp in the air. The global market was open at all hours, and the ride to work was the perfect time to make calls to his international partners.

“Yes, Mr Han,” Jaehee answered, bowing her head slightly as she spoke.

Jumin circled his desk, taking a seat in his leather office chair. Jaehee stood expectantly, waiting for further instructions.

“I assume these are to be completed by midday?”

His eyes never shifted from his cuffs as he fixed them. Jaehee’s eyes were glued to him.

“Yes, Mr Han.”

Those words had become her soundtrack. Jumin’s eyes never rose to meet hers, they only flicked to the pile of papers in front of him. His fingers made light work of the paper, careful not to crumple it as he pulled them towards him, pen already in between his fingers.

“Thank you, Assistant Kang,” he said rather curtly, not that Jaehee noticed anymore. She had become immune to his tone; he wasn’t being rude, she quickly came to learn, that was simply how he communicated. He was a blunt, mostly monotone man. He swiftly began to flick through the top file, and she took this as a dismissal, attempting to close the large wooden doors as quietly as possible so that he went undisturbed.

He didn’t notice her departure until he finally raised his gaze to ask her a question, his eyes being met with an expanse of empty space. He cast his eyes back down to the applications before him, absentmindedly reaching for his coffee, no longer noticing the burning sensation coursing through his skin as he picked it up, bringing it to his lips.

He let out an exaggerated sigh. Jaehee had placed Post-It Notes over the names of all the applicants again. She seemed to do it every time. It was no secret that Jumin was intolerant of most people in the world. This did not exclude his employees. They made up the majority of the people he couldn’t stand. He found them to be insufferable commoners, and tended to avoid them at all costs. He supposed someone had to do the groundwork so he could deal with what he considered the real business. He knew covering the names of the applicants was so he would genuinely consider them all without allowing his opinions of those he despised to get in the way so he could truly get the best person for the job. If he did that, he would, most likely, be left with no applications to look through. It made the process more candid, he reasoned to himself, and he could get perfect candidates without personal prejudices clouding his judgement. That’s business, right?

Jumin tried to burn through the pile of applications as quickly as his hands and mind would allow him. For the most part, he made as little noise as he could manage, his office filled with only the sound of his pen scratching against paper, so people would assume he was out and would save him the trouble of having to interact with anyone. It would only hinder his productivity.

He kept his setup immaculate. Along with having a specific resting place for Jaehee to deposit his files, he also had specific margins for where he kept his notepad, and the two different piles of applications he was currently making; yes, and hell no. Every five applications, he would deposit his ‘hell no’ pile into the bin by his feet, refreshing his desk to give him a moment’s break from the monotony of work. By the time he had shortlisted every eligible applicant, he only had an hour left to whittle the list down to ten candidates. He had already shortlisted thirty. Perhaps his reasoning of Jaehee’s system was too thorough. He was sure a little personal prejudice would’ve aided his work in the long run.

He found it incredibly cliched when he finished choosing candidates with a minute to spare before his deadline. At exactly midday, not a second later, Jaehee entered his office, swiftly gathering the ten candidate files from his desk. Jumin’s fingers pressed into his temples gently, throwing his notes from his personalised notepad into the bin.

“Do not tell me who they are,” Jumin instructed, “I don’t want to find out who they are until they give their pitches.”

Jaehee nodded, pushing her glasses up her nose with a slim finger, her heart soaring at the thought that her idea had been a success once again. The first time she had covered the names on applications handed to her boss, he had sneered. Now, he seemed to be appreciating it for the genius it was. This doesn’t mean to say Jumin would ever commend her for it; Jaehee had learnt that no comment was the best form of comment you could get from Jumin Han.

“Of course, Mr Han.”

Jaehee exited his spacious office once more, leaving Jumin to his own devices. He reclined in his seat, feet firmly planted on the carpeted floor beneath him. He sat, absentmindedly planning his day, for a few moments, deciding which stack of paperwork to ask Jaehee to retrieve from the numerous filing cabinets from the room behind his office first. After some deliberation, and the last sip of his fourth coffee of the day, he decided to begin with the most monotonous first and work his way up to the more exciting business.

All he was waiting on was the call of approval from his father for the applications he put forward.

He was certain his office was busier than Grand Central Station. Whether it be Company Board members discussing their findings from the company’s various departments, Skype conducted business calls with various higher-ups joining him to give their two-cents, or office workers grovelling to him after being fired for some minor discrepancy, his office was rarely quiet. He had his carpet routinely replaced on the fifth of every month because he was afraid of the wear it would suffer should he allow so many commoners to ruin it with their unkempt shoes. He had no idea what they were tracking in.

At 7pm, Jumin received approval from his father.

This was no indication that he could go home, though. He was growing tired of watching days become nights, and sometimes nights become days, from his desk chair. He had seen more sunsets and sunrises from his office than he had eaten meals at home that month, all down to his company reviewing and replacing their entire workforce, and the business ventures they owned. He was growing tired of being tired.

He knew the coming days would be no different. He knew that the next day held an onslaught of pitches from people he despised, telling him why they should have the honour of sitting at a table with him to decide on important matters within _his_ company. Only he should have that privilege.

Yet, he still turned up to work the next day, mentally prepared to hear the same mindless drivel ten times over and randomly vote for one of them after hating every single pitch he had heard. Everyone else on the board would agree with his decision, and he could move on with his day, regretting the decision he made for the rest of his life. He knew the drill.

At 8am sharp, he entered the Company Board conference room, passing the candidates who were seated in a neat line outside. As he walked, he only counted nine candidates. Perfect. That meant at least an hour of mindless drivel shaved from his day. Jumin was the only member not yet seated in the conference room. He was never early, nor late, only spectacularly on time. He stood at the end of the table, not even needing to attempt to catch the attention of anyone in the room before he began speaking. As soon as Jumin Han walked into a room, all eyes were on him. His aura radiated a form of power that went unmatched in any scenario.

“On behalf of C&R Internation, I would like to thank you all for joining me today in this crucial decision towards the benefit of the company,” he began his brief, “As you know, we are looking to expand the company in as many ways as we possibly can. This includes expanding departments and the way we run them. This is why we have decided to promote someone from within our legal team to become Chief Legal Officer, who will oversee everyone within the legal team, and will have footing in the way all other departments are run, as the rest of you do,” his eyes quickly glossed over everyone in the room, not lingering long enough to make eye contact, “I trust that you will all decide in the spirit of the wellbeing of the company, as you have all been through the same process. May I ask that you are all ready?”

There was an assortment of nods and murmurs of agreement around the room.

“Then we shall begin. Assistant Kang, please send in the first candidate.”

He took his seat at the head of the table, at the furthest end of the room from the door, coffee in his hand before he had even sat down. There was no need to bring a laptop for him to take notes on like the rest of the members had; Jaehee had already laid out a fresh pad of paper for him to use. He found the clicking of the keyboards very distracting. He pulled his engraved pen from his pocket – a present from his father – and placed it adjacent to the paper as a short, pale man entered the room, standing at the opposite end of the table to Jumin.

Jumin rather liked his position at the end of the table, particularly in situations like this. He could instil fear in people from afar. Just one glance could make them choke on their words and readjust their tie. He could raise one eyebrow and force a bead of sweat to fall down their face on command. He played them like violins. As soon as the door closed, Jaehee pressed the record button on a Dictaphone, and Jumin spoke words he would repeat multiple further times that day.

“Please state your name and current position at the firm for the record, then begin.”

It quickly became apparent that Taemin was the first blabbering mess to enter the room that day, but he certainly wouldn’t be the last. He barely managed to state his name without messing it up, and had to correct himself over which position he currently held at the firm before beginning his blunder of a pitch. He was definitely not getting the job, not by a long shot.

Some pitches weren’t as painful as others. Despite having to have a translator for her entire pitch, Priya’s argument was fairly convincing. As much as it bored him to listen to their voices, Jumin cared about the state and wellbeing of his company, and wanted to do right by the interests of everyone involved. He wasn’t about to palm off something as important as this for the sake of his growing headache. He was close to doing so, but he wouldn’t.

At 2pm, he allowed the rest of the members to take a break. They had sped through as many pitches and borderline interrogations as humanly possible, and had only made it through four in six hours. It was going to be a _very_ long day, Jumin could already tell. Although, if one of them was still a no-show, his day may have been made considerably better. Unfortunately, when he checked outside the room, there were six candidates remaining; a tall, lanky redhead had joined their ranks, who appeared to be juggling an overflowing briefcase and the papers that were spewing from it. At least it wasn’t completely empty. Yet.

It took just over thirty minutes for the board members to return. Jumin hated their inability to stick to any form of time constraints. He had told them thirty minutes exactly. Not thirty-four. In that time, Jumin had already been to the toilet, drank two coffees, rang his father to update him on the process so far, checked up on his cat, looked into buying out an entire chain of restaurants in England and expanding them globally, and eaten his lunch – a Caesar salad. It seemed all anyone had managed to do was grab a coffee and a breakfast bar from the vending machine down the hallway, something he avoided at all costs. He wasn’t entirely sure how to use one, and he was somewhat proud of that.

Jumin gestured for Jaehee to send the next candidate in. She called for them, and Jumin prepared to repeat the same words again, but not without making a book-cover judgement about them, as he did the others.

She was very short. He wondered if that hindered her abilities to be powerful. He would find it extremely difficult to take any kind of direction seriously from someone child-sized. It would be like being bossed around by a toddler. She had dressed the part, though. His first note was that her choice of shoe was appropriate – heel not too high, not impossible to walk in, and certainly smart. Her skirt matched her blazer; both the exact same shade of dark blue, both clearly tailored to fit her slender figure. Her light hair was tied back in a bun, away from her face so it didn’t distract her or get in the way, and revealed a perfect, happy-medium amount of makeup that looked both elegant and professional. Jumin just hoped that her pitch was as well put together as she looked.

“Please state your name and current position at the firm, then begin.”

She swiftly placed her file onto the glass table in front of her. Jumin’s eyes surveyed her once more, travelling up her slim legs, following the curve of her hips, up to her generous bust, finally coming to settle on her face, his gaze momentarily lingering on her plump lips. Jumin imagined they’d look great around his –

“Eva Dawson, Paralegal,” her voice was refreshingly clear. As soon as Jumin heard the word Paralegal, however, he raised an eyebrow with a soft smirk gracing his face. A Paralegal going for Chief Legal Officer? How brave. He expected a bead of sweat to drip down her forehead, or perhaps a nervous cough – maybe even a tear, if he was lucky – but she gave no response to his eyebrow raise. A second later, however, she returned the eyebrow raise before starting her pitch.

It was Jumin’s turn to sweat a little.

Had she not crumbled under his watchful eye? Did he have lettuce stuck to his face from his lunch? He wasn’t sure what it was but it hadn’t set her pitch off well, not for Jumin. He had already given her one strike at the top of the page. Three, and she was out of the question for consideration.

Unfortunately, she had the strongest pitch he had seen all day, at which he ground his teeth. She hadn’t opened with the usual three-minute introduction on the usually incorrect history of the firm, and given a rushed one-minute personal pitch, ending on an equally rushed one-minute conclusion. Her facts were spot-on, and her pitch was perfectly paced. He _had_ to find something wrong with it. He began attempting to poke holes in it as the board members began to interrogate her. Jumin kept a close eye, waiting for her to slip up on something. Much to his dismay, she didn’t, and kept her composure when he grilled her about her audacity to stand for such a position when she was merely a Paralegal.

“I won’t move up the ranks in this company simply waiting for an opportunity to fall into my lap. I may not have been here as long as some of the other candidates, but I am definitely more skilled and more competent than them,” she said smoother than an actor reciting lines.

“And where do you see yourself in the future?” he pressed, desperate for her to say something that would warrant him not choosing her.

“I plan to be running my own law firm.”

Bingo.

“You don’t see yourself here at C&R International in your future?”

“No, Mr Han.”

He chuckled once, causing a few other board members to cast looks of confusion. He simply mer her eyes, his slightly narrowed.

“Then why apply for the position?”

He placed his pen down, folding his arms over one another on the table, taunting her for the answer she was about to give. He couldn’t wait to see her stumble over her apologies.

“Because I won’t get any footing, nor gain any respect, if I don’t build up a name for myself. Where better to do that than the biggest company in the country, if not the world? If I’m Chief Legal Officer here, I have the entire legal world eating out of the palm of my hand. A few years in that position and I could snap my fingers to have someone form my law firm for me, and already have a hundred lawyers wanting to work for me before I even ask. Some people slowly grind, Mr Han. I take leaps of faith to further my career.”

Jumin almost launched his engraved pen straight into her jugular there and then. Did she just admit to using his company as a _fucking stepping stone?_ The biggest kick in the teeth wasn’t even her answer, it was the whispers and nods of agreement around him. Were they _all_ using his company as a stepping stone? He restrained his legs from walking him straight out the door.

“I think we’ve heard enough, Ms. Dawson. You may leave,” he spat.

“I would like to thank the board for listening to me today. And thank you, Mr Han,” she shot him an almost sarcastic smile before exiting the conference room. His eyes were pinned to her as she walked on the other side of the glass, returning to the seat she had been in, waiting expectantly for the rests of the candidates to be heard so they could find out the results.

Jumin hoped the chair was unpleasantly uncomfortable for her to be sat in for such a long amount of time.

Sadly, no candidates after that came anywhere close to the pitch she had given. They had all given the same incorrect facts about the company – Jumin was one more falsehood away from suing Wikipedia – and had simply begged him to give them the job instead of giving an argument. He almost cut the interviewing process two people short because he was ready to papercut-slit his throat after correcting yet another person that his father was the Chairman of the company, not the CEO. It was almost like they didn’t even bother.

Finally, at 9pm, a full 13 hours after beginning the process, the final candidate left the conference room. Jumin considered it a success that only two of them had cried during the interviews. It was 10pm before the board had even begun to settle on at least three candidates for the job; Taemin, Priya, and Eva. Jumin hated the fact that she had made it in there, but he wasn’t ready to jeopardise his company for the sake of replacing her in the line-up with the guy he had literally seen vomit into his briefcase not five minutes before his pitch. He was going to try his hardest to make sure he didn’t win the vote.

He proceeded to point out every flaw in her pitch which, admittedly wasn’t many.

“She sees no long-term future at this company,” he tried to reason with the Chief of Human Resources, “So I don’t see why we should be considering someone whose prospects here are incredibly short-sighted.”

“Yes,” she sighed, removing her thick rimmed glasses, “But who doesn’t have dreams of owning their own business, or having a name for themselves within their sphere, especially at her age? She’s 26. It’s unlikely that those dreams will pan out anyway. Perhaps she will love her position here so much that she will abandon her dream.”

That reasoning didn’t sit well with him at all, and he spent the next ten minutes shooting daggers her way. Her pay would certainly be docked this month for “minor misconduct in a company meeting.”

Jumin continued to try and battle his cause against them, but it was no use. By the time it came to the vote, all but Jumin voted for her. It was no surprise to anyone that Jumin left the room shortly after that for a brisk walk. Or, as his father would’ve called it, a tantrum. Yes, he was throwing a tantrum and, yes it was because he didn’t get his way but, damn it, it was his company. At least it _would_ be his company, one day.

It was nearing midnight when he returned. He had done a short circuit of the other side of the floor, so they couldn’t see him pacing furiously. The moment his backside touched the chair, Jaehee was calling Eva into the room.

Jumin looked up at her reluctantly while angrily crossing her name out on his sheet of notes.

“Congratulations, Ms. Dawson,” he spoke through almost gritted teeth, forcing as much of a smile as he could muster at her, “You have been chosen as the Chief Legal Officer of C&R International, effective as of 8am tomorrow.”

He had already zoned out the moment the last word left his mouth, and continued to pen angry black strikes through every note he had made about her pitch as she individually thanked every member of the board, himself included. He simply shot a half-grimace her way once he noticed her voice stop, at which Jaehee hastily escorted her out before he could attempt to jam his coffee cup down her throat.

“Dismiss all the other candidates, Assistant Kang,” he instructed before turning his attention back to the members sat before him, “Thank you all for helping make such an important decision for the company. I hope you are all happy with the choice you made,” his voice was rich in bitterness, and his words in passive-aggressiveness, “You are dismissed.”

Despite him having dismissed the people in the room, Jumin was the first out the door. He wanted to get as far away from that meeting room as possible. He needed a long, hot soak, and the time to mentally prepare himself with having to work with her every single day for the foreseeable future.

It was almost like his employees _wanted_ to see him suffer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HOPE THIS WAS OKAy??????????????? LET ME KNOW IF THERE'S ANYTHING NOT OKAY?????????? I'LL FIX IT????????????

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this is just a teaser and to set up the situation buuuuuuut..... I hope this is hyping you up for what is to come! You can probably already guess kinda what happens..... the first actual chapter won't be kept from you long.  
> ALSO: the title, and each chapter title are names of songs, so I'll be adding each title into a playlist as I update.... if you're interested, here it is: https://open.spotify.com/user/playlistyou/playlist/0zPe5qkB25xUfuKcQzugWL


End file.
